Against All Odds
by piccolina789
Summary: A tragic event brings Sara's family life to the surface. Will she be able to get through unscathed? GSR.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Guess what, guys? I graduated college this weekend! So no more ignoring my homework so I can write instead... I'm done with school for EVER! :)

This story has been in the works for a while, the idea was on my mind and I've been writing as inspiration comes. I finally decided I wanted to share it. It's set around season six-ish, because I thought it worked best that way. As always, I hope that you will enjoy it.

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><p>"What d'you got for me boss?"<p>

Warrick followed Grissom into the break room, where the rest of the team were gathered. Both men nodded their hellos to Nick, Catherine, Greg and Sara, who were all cradling cups of steaming coffee, slumped in chairs. Grissom recognized the familiar scent of Greg's special brew, and reminded himself to grab a cup before returning to the paperwork that was stacked waist-high on his desk.

"419 off the strip," he told the CSI. "You're on your own. We're stretched thin tonight."

"Cool," Warrick said, grabbing the paper from his boss's hand and heading towards the door.

"Greg, smash and grab at the Flamingo," Grissom said.

"Flying solo?"

"You're a big boy."

"Sweet," Greg smirked, snatching his case paper from the table.

"Nick, assault and possible missing person in Henderson. Brass is already there."

"I'm on it."

"Catherine, double in Henderson," Grissom finished. "Take Sara with you."

Catherine strutted towards Grissom.

"And you're…"

"Finishing paperwork and evaluations so I can get Ecklie off my ass," Grissom finished.

"I assumed as much," Catherine smirked. "Sara, I'll meet you at the car."

"Thanks, Cath," Grissom said, his eyes following her out the door before turning his eyes on Sara.

"I guess I'll see you after shift," she said, leaving her mug on the table to join Catherine.

Grissom caught her arm on her way out, glancing briefly down the hall.

"Honey, are you okay?" he said softly. "You didn't say a word during assignments."

"I'm okay," Sara said distractedly, her eyes avoiding his gaze.

"Sara," he said, even softer. "No guards, remember?"

She glanced up to finally meet his gaze and he was surprised to see her eyes looking red and swollen, as if she'd been recently crying. He instantly and instinctively wanted to wrap his arms around her and reassure her everything would be okay, but, remembering where they were at the last moment, hung back.

"Not now," she whispered.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached out and gripped her arm, trying to convey all he wanted to say and do in his touch. She gave him a weak smile in return.

"How about you go with Nick instead," he suggested. "Catherine can handle the double on her own."

Grissom knew of Nick's knack for making Sara laugh, whatever the circumstances, a trait he had often been jealous of, but now, was appreciative for. If there was anyone on the team he trusted her with, it was Nick.

Sara was nodding her agreement.

"Okay."

"Hey," he said softly, putting a few fingers to her chin to lift it slightly. "You know I'm going to worry about you all night."

"Please don't," she pleaded. "I'm okay."

Grissom continued to study her, unconvinced.

"We'll talk after shift," she said.

He watched her retreating back and felt an ache low in his belly. He still struggled with how to handle Sara's emotions from time to time, but he had learned when to be there for her and when to back off. And right now, with that look in her eye, he knew she needed him. And it physically pained him to watch her walk away, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for her, not now. He'd have to wait until after shift, when they were both back in the sanctuary of their home together, the place he had discovered was where he was happiest. Where he could be himself, no guards, no barriers. Just him and Sara.

His Sara.

* * *

><p>When he arrived home later that night, he found Sara curled on the couch nursing a glass of rum and coke. As he took his key out of the lock and pressed the door shut behind him, he was surprised. Sara was not a drinker. Sure, she was a one-glass-of-wine-with-dinner kind of girl occasionally, but since her almost-DUI, she had stayed far away from the stuff, almost as if to prove a point, although nothing needed to be proven. Her eyes were dry, but still red, and she looked as if she hadn't slept at all since she'd gotten home. Grissom didn't pause even to take off his shoes or coat, he went straight to her, sitting hesitantly on the coffee table across from her, taking her hands just as tentatively.<p>

"Sara, honey," he said. "Are you okay?"

She nodded at him dully, her eyes staring at the rim of her mug without really seeing it. Grissom abandoned his spot on the table and, keeping her hands in his, sat next to her on the couch instead. He didn't say anything further, but his thumb traced circles on the tops of her hands. Eventually, she leaned into him, her head making contact with his chest as she folded into him. He wrapped strong arms around her and he began to feel her shoulders shake as her body was wracked with sobs. Again, he stayed silent, knowing her well enough to know that she'd talk in her own time. So he held her, hoping that he'd be capable of being there for her in whatever she was dealing with.

As he expected, she eventually pulled away from him, struggling to catch her breath. They arranged themselves so they were sitting cross-legged across from each other on the couch. He still held her hands.

"I got a call from a… Jason something… in California today," she said.

Grissom's body was immediately washed over with dread. Had something happened to her mother?

"I guess he, uh… he's a friend of my brother," she continued. "He told me… he said that…"

Grissom squinted his eyes in concern, squeezing her hand. He knew where this was going.

"My brother's dead," Sara finished, surely enough. "Adam's… dead."

"Oh, Sara."

He took her into his arms again and cradled her head to his chest. She didn't cry this time, but her whole body was trembling and her hands felt like they had been dunked in a bucket of ice. When she pulled away again, she took a deep breath and Grissom felt it was safe to ask her a question or two.

"How did it happen?"

Sara wiped her eyes with shaking hands.

"He was… drunk and he drove his car off the highway," she managed, shaking her head. "I thought he'd have straightened up by now."

She glanced furtively at her empty glass, up to Grissom and back down to the hands folded in her lap. His heart broke for her. He knew little to nothing about her brother… had actually not even known his name until she spoke it moments ago, but no matter how close or not they were, he knew Sara felt like she'd lost the only family she had left. He scooted a little closer to her on the couch and placed a firm but comforting hand on her leg, a little above her knee.

"Let's go to bed," he said softly.

She looked up to meet his gaze and he cocked his head slightly as if to re-ask the offer. He led her by the hand to their bedroom, where he helped her undress until she was left only in a tank top and panties. He shed his own clothing down to his boxers and together, they slipped between the dark satin sheets of their bed. She curled up to him right away. Before he could ask her or say anything, she spoke softly into the darkness.

"Adam did a lot of things wrong," she said. "He… hung out with the wrong crowd, got in a lot of trouble with drugs and we basically lost contact as soon as I went into foster care. He didn't show up for my mom's trial. I went by myself. I was thirteen."

Grissom slid a hand onto her waist.

"But most of the time, when I think about him, I just remember all the things he did right," she continued, only a slight wobble in her voice. It was as if the darkness was giving her the confidence to speak. Over the years, Grissom had gathered bits and pieces of the shattered life that was Sara's family, but had never heard so many memories in one sitting.

"When Dad drank, Adam would let me stay in his room so I wouldn't have to be alone," she whispered. "Once, when I was eight, I was playing outside with the neighbor's dog and dragged mud in all over the kitchen floor. He took the blame for me so I wouldn't get hit. He tried so hard to keep me safe, but eventually it just… it got to him. He just… went down the wrong path."

She took a deep breath before continuing. Grissom's heart warmed for how proud he was of her. His Sara was so strong.

"I was ten when… it… happened. He was sixteen. He… did everything he could to protect me."

At this, Sara's voice cracked. He gave her hip a reassuring squeeze and ran a light finger down her jaw line. She leaned into his touch and rested her head on his chest. They were silent for several minutes, Grissom's fingers playing through the curls of Sara's hair. He almost thought she'd fallen asleep, when she suddenly spoke again.

"The service is on Saturday."

She pulled her head from his chest and he shifted to his side to look at her.

"I want to go," she said.

"You're sure?"

She nodded.

Grissom inhaled slowly as he thought.

"I'll get Greg to swap you for the weekend off," he said finally. "And Ecklie… I'll tell him… something came up. I have far enough days off stored up to cover it."

Sara's head perked up.

"W-what?"

Grissom stared at her.

"I'm coming with you," he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Sara's lips parted as her expression softened.

"You don't have to do that," she said quietly.

"I want to," he assured her. "There's no way I'd make you go through that alone."

In seconds, her lips were pressed against his mouth.

"Thank you," she murmured against him.

"I love you, Sara," he whispered back. "And I'm sorry."

Within minutes, she really was asleep, yet Grissom continued to hold her tight, as if by pressing her against him, he hoped to transfer every one of her worries and fears into him.

If only.

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><p><strong>TBC!<strong>

**A/N: **So that is where the story is headed! As a graduation gift, send me a review and tell me what you think?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I was so excited to get all the wonderful feedback on the first chapter! You guys rock! I hope you enjoy this one just as much. :)

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><p>"Can I get you another drink, miss?"<p>

Grissom looked up to see the flight attendant addressing Sara, who was staring intently out the window.

"Miss?"

When Sara still did not respond, Grissom put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Sara?"

"Hm?" she murmured, jerked out of her stupor. He nodded towards the attendant, who was waiting expectantly. Sara shook her head politely.

"No, thanks."

She turned her gaze towards the wispy clouds streaming past the plane. Grissom moved his hand from her shoulder to her knee, and although she put her own hand on top of his, she kept her gaze held steady.

"See any birds?"

She turned towards him with a look of confusion.

"Made you look," he teased.

She smiled briefly before stopping short, replacing the shy grin with her prior look of anxiety, as if it wasn't okay to be happy.

"And now I made you smile," he said, nudging her. "Sara. Are you all right?"

She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again.

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm just… I don't know how I feel about this."

"Going home?" he offered. "The funeral? Me coming with you?"

Sara paused before answering.

"All of the above," she replied.

"Did I make a mistake, honey?" he asked. "Coming here with you? Is this something you wanted to do by yourself?"

This time, Sara didn't hesitate at all.

"No," she said. "No. I… I'm glad you're here. I couldn't… I couldn't do it without you."

She squeezed his hand and he offered her a smile, which she didn't return.

"I just… I wanted to keep you as far away from this part of my life as possible," she finally admitted. "And this… this is just dragging you right into the heart of it."

"Sara," he said, firmly, but gently. "Honey. I want to be here for you for all the times, good and bad. You have to know that nothing could ever make me leave you."

This time, Sara's smile was genuine.

"I know," she said softly.

She intertwined her fingers with his, and dropped her gaze to look at their joined hands.

"I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too, honey."

He leaned across the armrest to kiss her as the seatbelt signed lit up and dinged from above them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing for descent," came the captain's voice. "Please fasten your seatbelts and flight attendants, prepare for landing."

Grissom finished his kiss and Sara held his gaze as they pulled apart.

"Gil?"

"Hm?"

"Will you tell me if I—this… ever gets too much?"

He stared at her, and after a few moments, she began to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, finally, he broke the silence as he swallowed several times to keep his ears from popping.

"Why do you still think that you're never good enough?"

She stared at him back.

"I… what?"

"Sara, I love you," he pressed. "Rough childhood, workaholic tendencies, blanket-stealing habits and all."

She closed her eyes and smiled briefly.

"I'm here to help you through this, and I'll be here for whatever comes next," he continued. "You will never be too much for me. I'm just lucky to have you."

She nodded, vigilantly fighting back tears and leaning in to kiss him to keep them from falling out. They broke away and he kept his hand lingering on her face, swallowing hard.

"Ears popping?" she guessed.

"Like mad."

"Try this."

She reached into her carry-on and extracted a stick of Juicy Fruit gum, handing it to him. He unwrapped it from its tin foil cover and stuck the piece in his mouth, half of it hanging out. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes in response, but leaned over to bite off the other half, not escaping before receiving another kiss.

"You're a dork," she teased affectionately. "But I love you."

They were both jerked back into their seats as the airplane's wheels touched the ground of the runway. Immediately aware that she was back in her home state, Sara took a deep breath before nodding reassuringly at him and pulling her carry-on from beneath the seat in front of her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to San Francisco. Current temperature is seventy degrees and local time is five p.m. Thank you for flying with us today."

Grissom stepped around the older woman occupying the aisle seat to retrieve his own bag from the overhead bin, and they patiently waited to disembark the plane. Having checked no baggage, they made their way through the international airport to the car rentals, where they were to have a car waiting for them. Standing in line outside the rental agency, Grissom's eyes scanned the surroundings.

"You know, the last time I was here was the first time we met," he said, squeezing her hand. "Maybe we should stay a few extra days. Visit the bridge… have some déjà vu."

"We should," she agreed. "But maybe not this time. I don't think I'm… not this time."

Grissom squeezed his agreement, and several minutes later, they were handed the keys to a red sedan. They tossed their bags in the back seat and bickered for a beat over who was to drive. Eventually, with Sara behind the wheel and Grissom seated only somewhat disgruntled in the passenger's seat, they were off.

They began the journey in silence, but a comfortable one, with their hands interlocked and resting on the glove compartment. When they began a conversation, it was easy and light, joking about everything from Nick's new haircut to Greg's newest wacky shirt. It was good to see her laugh. As long as Sara was smiling, Grissom was happy.

Eventually, quiet took over again and the smile faded just a little from Sara's face.

Grissom squeezed her fingers in their still-intertwined hands.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Yeah. I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have all of you."

"All?"

"Don't worry, you're still number one," she joked. "But Nick, Greg, Warrick… Catherine. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Grissom smiled at her and studied her face, lit from behind by the setting sun.

"Asking you to come to Vegas was the best thing I ever did."

She smiled back at him.

"We're here."

They pulled into the small motel, about twenty minutes outside Tamales Bay and only ten from where the funeral service was to be held the next morning. It was brightly painted, with several people strolling around the property. They made their way to the office with their bags, checked in, and settled into room one hundred twenty-four.

"So," Grissom said as he pulled his phone out of the bag for the first time and switched it on. "What do you feel like doing? We can go out for dinner… or order room service and eat in."

Sara was about to answer as Grissom's phone went berserk – ringing constantly with missed calls, voicemails and texts. He looked at her apologetically, but she only smiled in response.

"Check 'em," she said. "I don't mind."

"I'm shutting it off."

"You should listen to them," she insisted. "They might be important."

He hit the power down button and the phone vibrated off. He held it up for her to see.

"Done."

"Gil-"

"Sara," he cut her off, stepping over to her. "All I care about this weekend is you. Everything else can wait."

She leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her and sighed into her hair. All was right when he was holding Sara.

"I wish this were a real vacation," she murmured into his chest. "And not…"

"I know," he said. "But sometime soon, I'm going to take you on a real vacation. Somewhere tropical."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her gently.

"So what do you feel like doing?" he asked. "Going out or staying in?"

"I know we just got here, and we should go out… but I really… is it okay if we just stay in?"

"Of course," he said immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"Sara, seriously, whatever you feel like doing is okay by me."

"Okay," she whispered, giving him quick pecks of kisses. "Thank you."

"C'mon, let's pick what we want."

He led her by the hand to the bed (already stripped of its top cover – Sara couldn't stand the thought of using the most likely unwashed comforter) where she cuddled into him, her head on his shoulder, as they looked at the room service menu. They decided upon baked lasagna (vegetarian) for Sara and a chicken primavera for Grissom, who called in the order with a bottle of wine.

"They don't make men like Humphrey Bogart any more."

Grissom raised an eyebrow at her and scooped another bite of chicken into his mouth. Sara's gaze stayed fixed on "Casablanca" playing in black and white on their screen, but he knew she saw him. She sipped her wine and laughed.

"Except you, dear," she covered quickly. "But you're more… James Dean, anyways."

"What about Roy Rogers?"

"You don't look anything like Roy Rogers, honey," she laughed. "Just because you have part ownership of his horse…"

"Hey, don't tease Trigger," he warned. "His certificate of ownership is one of my most prized possessions."

This time, Sara raised her brow.

"Except you, dear. Of course."

She leaned in to kiss him, and around her arm, he stabbed a bite of lasagna onto his fork.

"Gil Grissom, are you using my kiss to sneak food?" she accused him.

"Of course not," he countered, changing the fork's course mid-air and directing it towards her mouth. "For you."

"Uh huh."

She accepted the bite and a second kiss from him and pushed the almost-empty plate of lasagna off her lap. She removed the empty plate of chicken from his lap, and replaced herself with it, settling herself between his legs and leaning back into his chest. He ran his fingers lightly down her arms and she rested her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"I think so," she sighed. "This may sound horrible, but I just want to get it over with and put it behind me."

"That doesn't sound horrible, Sara, that sounds perfectly natural."

"I apologize in advance if I'm a wreck tomorrow," she said, half-joking.

"You'll be fine," he assured her.

"I know," she said, tilting her head a little so she could look at him. "Because I have you."

She wiggled around a little so that she was sitting facing him, her legs straddling his lap and her hands cupping his face.

"I know I said this on the plane, but I'm really glad you're here," she said.

"I'm glad too, Sara."

Slowly, she closed the distance between their lips and began to kiss him, slowly at first, but quickly becoming more and more urgent with each kiss. She slid her hands around his neck and put her fingers into his hair, and he did the same, pushing her gently closer, pressing her against him. Her fingers caressed his hair and moved to his cheeks, down his chest, and to the buttons of his shirt. She started working on them, but he broke apart before she could reach the second one down.

"Sara," he breathed. "Are you sure you want this? Now?"

"Yes," she moaned back, her lips on his neck.

Despite a familiar, low rumbling deep in his belly, he had to pull away once more.

"But Sara-"

"Shut up and kiss me, Gil."

He chuckled and couldn't argue with that. He kissed her, kissed her until his lips were almost numb. Then he started exploring.

He pushed the hem of her top up higher and higher until he pulled it over her head and completely off her body. He put two firm hands on her waist and flipped her around, so that she was lying on her back on the mattress. He ran both his hands down her sides, leaving goose bumps in their wake on her skin. He smiled. There was nothing he loved more than exploring and loving every inch of the woman laying before him.

Clothes were discarded, 'I love yous' were whispered and moans were uttered. Their lovemaking was much like their previous kisses – slow at first, then urgent and needy. But as always, it was full of tender romance and love. As "Casablanca's" credits rolled, they laid together, skin pressed against skin, one of Grissom's hands atop Sara's on his chest, the other lightly playing with her hair.

"Hey, honey?" he whispered, unsure if she'd fallen asleep.

"Hm?"

"I love you very much."

Despite the dark, he knew she was smiling. If he could make her fall asleep with a smile on her face each night, he'd be a happy man.

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><p><strong>TBC! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

"Is this okay?"

Sara fidgeted with the seams of her dress, looking uncomfortable as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"It looks fine, honey," he said. "You look very nice."

"I hate dresses," she sighed. "I don't even wear them to court."

"I'd say you should wear them more often, but then I'd have to fight off all the men drooling over your legs," he teased, making her cheeks flush crimson. "Help me out?"

He held out his tie, a subdued one that was navy blue. Sara took it and began to tie it with expert precision, tucking and folding until it was just right. She turned him around so he faced the mirror, reaching over his shoulders to make the final touches.

"Where did you learn to tie ties so well?" he asked, realizing that his ties always looked better when Sara tied them.

"Have a knack for it, I guess," she shrugged.

"Now I know a cop-out answer when I hear it," he replied.

She turned him back around to face her and gave him a saucy look.

"Fine," she gave up. "I dated a law student in grad school, and he dressed up a lot. Happy?"

"Very," he said. "You know what they say, practice makes perfect. His practice…"

"Makes you perfect?" she offered.

"I wasn't going to say it," he winked.

"Well, if you're impressed with the things I can tie with my hands, just wait until you see what I can do with my tongue."

He could do nothing but stare at her in awe.

"What?" she prodded. "I haven't revealed all my cards just yet."

"You amaze me," he said honestly.

He grinned at her, and she smiled back, but a quick flash in her eyes made Grissom see right through her teasing tones and airy disposition. Just as he reached out to take her hand, she turned from him, resting her palms on the bathroom counter and looking down at the faux-marble. He came up behind her, his hands pushing the hair back from her face behind her shoulder.

"You okay, Sara?"

She took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"You ready?"

She turned to face him, reaching out for his hand, which he gave her.

"Yeah."

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><p>They arrived at the church early for the service, but there were still hoards of black-clad people making their way across the front lawns to the open double doors. Fleetingly, he wondered whether Sara's brother had made a specific request for a service and burial, or if someone had made that decision for him. He remembered Sara saying something once about wanting to be cremated herself. As if on cue, Sara spoke.<p>

"Adam was always more religious than I was," she remarked, her eyes fixed on the church. "I was never an atheist, I just didn't know what I believed. I still don't. But Adam, he knew it, and he'd go sing it on the mountaintop if someone asked him to."

She paused, almost smiling in memory.

"It's strange that someone who knew him today would know that about him," she said. "I would have thought he gave up going to church a long time ago."

Grissom reached across the car to put a hand on her knee. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you speaking today?" he asked her gently. "At the service?"

Sniffling, Sara shook her head.

"Jason asked me if I wanted to, when he called," she said. "I almost said yes, but… I don't even know what I'd say."

"It says enough that you're here."

A few more moments passed.

"We should go," he urged her softly as she nodded.

They approached the church together, hand-in-hand, as Grissom wondered how many of the mourners Sara knew or recognized. So far, no one had come up to her. But he saw that as for the best. They were only feet away from the church's doors when Sara stopped short.

"Honey?"

Their hand contact broken, he held out his palm for her to accept again. Instead, she shook her head and backed a few steps away.

"I can't do this," she said faintly.

"Yes, you can," he urged, going to her and taking her hand as she continued to shake her head. "You can, Sara. You've come this far."

She stared at the ground, blinking away tears until she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, a pleading look on her face. He nodded to her, and put an arm around her waist, the other hand still clasped in hers. They walked through into the church together, and chose a seat in the backmost pew. There was a large framed photograph of Adam at the front of the church, beside a closed coffin. The resemblance between Sara and her brother was remarkable. Though the picture was only from the waist-up, Grissom could tell Adam also had Sara's tall, lean form, dark eyes and pale complexion. He could see the two of them as children, a mess of arms and legs, elbows and knees, scrawny, yet energetic, running around the backyard. Did they even have a backyard? He knew so little of Sara's past and childhood.

They only had to wait a few minutes before the service began, and Sara's hand remained clasped in his the entire time, cold and clammy, yet steady. The priest began the prelude, then the worship, and Grissom kept his gaze focused on the ceremony, but his attention stayed on Sara. So far, she seemed to be holding up. By the time the invocation was stated and Adam's friend Jason stood to give the eulogy, she had yet to shed a tear.

"Adam was a lot of things," Jason began. "A son, a brother, a hard-worker. But to me, he was my friend and someone I could always count on to be there for me, no matter the hour. I, uh… I remember one time a few years ago, I decided that I really, really wanted… a burger. At four a.m. Luck would have it, my car broke down on the way to the In 'n Out. No one but Adam would have gotten his butt out of bed to pick me up."

Jason paused in reflection and glanced around the church.

"Adam was a good guy," Jason continued, his eyes flitting towards Sara before he went on. She shifted slightly in her seat. "I don't know much about the person he was before I met him, but I know he went through some hard times. He never expected that he'd come out a survivor, but in my eyes, he did. The one thing I do know about him, is how much he loved his baby sister."

Sara's hand twitched in his. He glanced at her, and although she wasn't crying, her eyes were red and puffy from trying to restrain the tears. Several of the mourners had turned in their pews to find the woman on which Jason's eyes were resting. Grissom wished he could tell them all to turn back around.

"He, uh, he always said that Sara was the smartest person he ever knew," Jason said. "And he was so proud of her. And I know that if he'd want me to say anything for him here today, it was that he loved her very much."

Sara lost her battle with the tears as they were unleashed and made streaky trails down her cheeks. Her gaze was locked firmly on Jason, and Grissom saw her give him the slightest of nods, in thanks.

"The way Adam left us was sad and unfortunate," Jason went on. "But he wouldn't want us to be thinking about that. He would want us to remember the good times, the laughs, and all the times that he shared with each and every one of you. At his heart, Adam was a giver. Today, give back to him, by remembering him, and smile."

Jason stepped from the podium, and before Grissom could say or do a thing, Sara leaned into him, pressing her head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her head under his chin. He could feel eyes upon them, but he kept his gaze lowered. Eventually, she pulled her head from his chest, but stayed close to him. He kept one arm tightly around her, and the other clasping her hands in her lap. The funeral progressed through the rest of the hymns and prayers, finished the benediction and concluded. Sara and Grissom stood, hands still clasped, but before they could even make it out of their row, they were suddenly surrounded by dozens of the funeral's attendants, trying to get to Sara to offer her their condolences.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Sara. Adam was a good man."

"You probably don't remember me, but I used to watch you and your brother when your parents were working," one shriveled old lady told her. "You were always so sweet. I'm so sorry, dear."

"You let me know if you need anything, Sara."

Sara thanked each and every one of them, those she remembered and those she didn't, clasping hands, accepting hugs and getting kiss upon kiss planted on her cheek. Grissom stayed near her all the while, not minding in the least bit that many of the funeral guests were eyeing him and the hand that was constantly on Sara's waist. He kept it strong and firm, and gave her extra squeezes when it seemed she needed them. As the church finally emptied, Sara met his gaze and he knew in an instant that she was ready to go. He moved his hand to the small of her back and guided her through the crowd, out of the church and towards the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked her when they were finally clear of the crowd.

"I've said it so many times," she answered dazedly.

"Said what, honey?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Sara said, her voice dull. "It's so routine, so… unhelpful."

He couldn't think of a thing to say to her in return, so instead, he moved closer to her as they walked in the bright sun. They had almost made it to the car, Grissom's arm wrapped firmly around Sara's waist, his hand resting on her hip, when a voice called out to them, hesitant, but loud.

"S-Sara?"

Sara turned around towards the voice, and a look crossed her face – one that Grissom would not forget for years to come. She stared at the speaker for several moments, obvious recognition on her face, but at a loss for words. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke in a defeated voice.

"Gil, meet my mother."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Just a quick note to thank all of you who have been reviewing and sending me your comments, you guys make my day, every time! I decided to post this a little earlier than I had planned, so I hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

><p>"Um, Gil, this is... this is Laura," Sara said as best as she could manage, her eyes still wide in shock. "Laur – Mom – this is Gil Grissom, my… uh-"<p>

"I'm the one who tore her away from California," Grissom offered.

Laura gave him a second of attention as she nodded to him before turning back to Sara.

"Sara, honey," she said. "It's… I don't even know what to say."

"Why are you here, Mom?"

Laura ignored the question as she continued to take in every inch of her daughter.

"I didn't expect to see you here – I didn't even know if you knew – but I saw you in the back, and I just knew it was you," she rushed. "I'm so glad you came, sweetheart."

She made a movement like she was going to spring forward to hug her daughter, but had thought better of it, and remained where she stood. Sara only nodded in response to her sentiments as Gil shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was conflicted – uncertain as to whether he should leave Sara alone to talk with her mother, whom she clearly hadn't seen in who knows how long, or remain by her side, if she needed him. He leaned into her just slightly.

"Sara-"

"Stay."

Her one word left him rooted firmly to the ground.

"They, uh, they let you come?" Sara finally asked, her voice trembling. "Wherever you are?"

"I'm working at a shelter for women," Laura answered. "I help them – or at least, I try to."

Again, Sara only nodded; searching desperately for the words she should say.

"Honey, I know that, after everything, I probably don't have the right to ask this, but... will you answer me just one thing?" Laura prompted. "Are you happy? Are you doing right by yourself?"

Sara's fingers twitched within Grissom's and it took her several moments to answer.

"I… I'm happy, Mom," she managed. "For the first time in a really long time, really and truly happy."

Laura pressed her lips together tightly in an effort not to cry.

"I'm glad," she said. "I'm really glad. And I'm really glad you came, Sara. It's so good… it makes me happy to know you're okay."

Sara tugged at Grissom's fingers and he knew immediately that it was time to go – Sara had taken all that she could handle. He put a firm hand on the small of her back and cleared his throat softly.

"Mrs. Sidle, it was great to meet you," he said, steering Sara towards the car.

Halfway there, she stopped and turned.

"Mom," she said. "It… it was good to see you, too."

Laura looked as if her heart might burst. Grissom opened the door for Sara, and she slid inside, collapsing into the seat as if physically and emotionally exhausted, as she probably was. He trotted to the driver's side of the red sedan, but before he could even crack open his door, Laura made a split second's decision and was at his side in moments.

"Mr. Grissom," she said. "It was very nice to meet you, too."

She offered him her hand, and in the first second that he took it, he could feel the slip of paper she was passing from him to her. He nodded at her, but with a confused look upon his face.

"Later," she whispered without moving her lips, so softly he could barely hear her.

She backed away from the car, waving one last time to Sara, and Grissom slipped the paper into the pocket of his pants before sliding into the driver's seat and joining Sara into the car.

"What did she say to you?" she asked.

"Just that it was nice to meet me, too," he replied honestly. "Sara? Are you okay? I know that was… unexpected."

Sara let out a breath and nodded.

"I'll say," she said. "I think… I think I'm okay."

"You handled that very well, honey," he told her.

She turned to him with a look of surprise.

"I did?" she asked incredulously. "I didn't even know what to say… I probably said three words total."

"At least eight," he assured. "But I don't think she was expecting a novel."

"It didn't even occur to me that she might be at the service," Sara said, still a little shocked. "I didn't even... _think_ about it."

"You didn't think she was still in jail?"

"Well, no," Sara admitted. "But I haven't checked up on her in years, I don't know where she's been lately. She could have been dead for all I know. I didn't really expect to ever be informed."

"Sara, she's still your mother."

"Biologically, yes. But Gil, I really only had a mother for seven or eight years of my life, and with each passing year, those memories grow fainter."

"She's proud of you," he offered.

"She doesn't know anything about me."

"But you just said it yourself, she was your mother for seven or eight years," he pointed out. "I know that even back then, she could have known that you'd be successful in life. I bet she could tell by just looking at you."

Sara smiled just a little and looked at him.

"Thank God you were there," she said with an almost-laugh.

"Told you I'd be there for the good and bad," he reminded her. "I always will be."

"I know."

Grissom leaned into give her a soft, but passionate kiss.

"Should we go to the burial?"

Sara fidgeted.

"Could we… skip it?" she asked embarrassedly. "If that makes me a horrible person, we can go, but I just… all those people around, staring at me. I don't know if I can do it again. I'd rather visit Adam for the final time on my own terms. Speak to him privately."

"Of course, honey. We don't have to go."

She reached over to take his hand.

"Thanks, Gil."

He leaned over the console and kissed her as, one by one, the cars pulled out of the church's lot until their sedan was the only vehicle remaining.

"What do you want to do?"

Sara smiled at him.

"I have an idea."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC! <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry if I haven't been able to respond to your guys' reviews, it's my brother's graduation from high school this weekend, and we have oodles of family in town. And now, TWO graduates in the house! Snuck away real quick from game night to post this one :)

* * *

><p>"Little Sara Sidle? Is that really you? I haven't in seen you in… gosh, decades!"<p>

"Hi, George," Sara smiled at the older man behind the ticket booth. "I can't believe you still work here."

"Retiring next month," he winked at her. "Where have you been, darlin'?"

"I live in Las Vegas now," Sara answered. "I'm a crime scene investigator."

Though George didn't know Grissom at all, he leaned across the window's counter and addressed him.

"This girl here, I knew her when she still wore pigtails in her hair," he said. "Used to come here all the time, didn't you?"

"It's my favorite spot in town."

"Go on through, darlin'."

"But I didn't get my parking ticket-"

"Sara," George cut her off with a smile. "If anyone asks, just say this ticket's on me. It was good to see you."

"It was good to see you too, George," Sara said. "And thanks."

George lifted the gate and Sara drove past it, swerving into a parking lot and bringing the sedan to rest, as Grissom marveled at how many people from Sara's past he'd seen and met in just the last few short hours.

"George's worked here since basically the dawn of time," Sara explained. "He'd always let me and Adam in for free when we came out here."

"Where are we?"

"Tomales Bay State Park," Sara replied. "C'mon. I'll show you my spot."

After pulling out a few grocery bags from the backseat that Sara had insisted on stopping and getting, they made their way, hand-in-hand, down a wooded path. It was approaching evening, and the bright sun was starting its slow descent towards the horizon. The trees were shaking softly in the wind and cast shadows on their quiet path. Eventually, the path emptied onto a beach, completely empty and beautiful, the lake surrounded by thick trees on all sides.

"For some reason, this beach is never crowded," Sara said as she led him by the hand to a spot in the sand.

She pulled out a blanket from the bag and spread it out. She plopped down on it and laid down, stretched out on her back. Grissom smiled at her and joined her.

"Adam found this place," she said softly. "He said it was the only place he could hear himself think. Whenever things got too much at home, we'd come here, no matter what time it was. We once snuck out at three in the morning, walked all the way here."

Grissom kept quiet, but reached out to put his arm around her. She snuggled into him.

"Despite everything, it's still one of my favorite places in the world," she whispered.

Grissom turned his head to plant a kiss in her hair.

"I'm really glad you brought me here," he said softly.

"Me too."

For a few minutes, the only noise around them was the soft rustling of the trees.

"I can't believe we saw my mother today," she said, eventually breaking the silence. She propped her head up on her elbow. "What did you think of her?"

Caught off-guard, Grissom squirmed a little, unsure of how he should answer her simple question.

"Well, I… I, uh–"

"It's okay," Sara cut him off. "Just be honest."

He still had to take several moments to contemplate his answer. He just simply did not know what Sara wanted to hear, and he didn't want to upset her by saying the wrong thing. He finally decided to take her advice and speak the truth.

"She seemed, well… normal," he admitted. "And… nice."

Sara nodded as she took that in, and sank off her elbow back into her blanket.

"I was actually surprised," she said finally. "I've imagined what meeting my mother again would be like over and over in my mind… it was kind of… I don't know, casual. Simple. In my mind, there's usually yelling. Or tears. Or both."

"You're both adults now," Grissom pointed out. "She knows there's no longer a need for you to be protected, and dually recognizes that you have no strong desire for a mother figure. I think she's possibly partly given up on the idea of being your mom… and just wants to be your friend."

He could feel her nodding beside him, but she stayed quiet. When she spoke, it was not what Grissom was expecting to hear.

"Was I too mean to her?"

This time, Grissom had to lift his head to his hand, in order to be able to look at her.

"What?"

"I don't know… was I too… distant?" Sara asked nervously. "Should I have said more? I don't –"

"Sara," he cut her off softly. "I think you did just fine. I told you that. Your mother doesn't expect to be your best friend after all these years."

"But in the circumstances –"

"Grief often prompts reconciliation, yes," Grissom relented. "But you can't expect yourself to forgive everything your mother has done, just because you lost a loved one."

"You're right."

He could tell she was unconvinced.

"Honey," he said softly, stroking her arm. "I think it's good that you saw your mother today. And I think it's good that you spoke to her. It took a strong person to do as much as you did. I don't think she could have expected more from you."

Sara held his gaze.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "I'm very proud of you."

She smiled at him and reached up to grab his collar, tugging him down towards her. She kissed him, pulled him close and they laid in silence for a while, body pressed against body, and hands intertwined. After what seemed like hours laying in comfortable quiet, Sara again propped her head on her elbow and smiled at him, a twinkle in her eye.

"You hungry?"

"A little," he grinned back at her. "You going to show me what's in the rest of those grocery bags?"

Sara grinned wider and extracted two pre-packaged wraps, one chicken and one veggie, a bag of grapes, a stack of plastic cups and a bottle of wine.

"A picnic?" he beamed.

As the moon began to rise above them and the stars came out in full force, they joked as they ate their wraps, as Grissom fed Sara the grapes as she giggled and they made a great head start into the bottle of wine. They made out under the stars like teenagers, both nipping playfully and kissing deeply and passionately. Full and happy, he took Sara into his arms again, listening to the water lapping on the shore.

"I love you, Sara," he whispered into her ear as his nose nuzzled into her ear.

"This is the only place in town that doesn't hold any bad memories for me," Sara said. "Tonight is one more memory to add to the pile. I love you, too."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her some more. She shivered in his arms as their lips made contact.

"That was either one great kiss, or you're getting cold," he said as they pulled apart.

"I'm okay."

He ran a few fingers down her arm.

"Honey, you have goose bumps," he protested. "Maybe it's time we should head out. When does the park close?"

"An hour ago," Sara said, glancing at her watch. "But George probably just left the gate up for me."

"It's that late already?"

"Time flies when you're making out," Sara joked.

"I always lose time when I'm with you," he said, stroking her cheek as the wind ruffled her hair. "I could kiss you forever."

She giggled again.

"C'mon, Romeo," she said. "Let's get out of here before the midnight watch finds us and cites us for public display of indecency."

Grissom stood and pulled Sara to her feet, drawing her closer for one last hug and kiss.

"Tonight was amazing," he said. "Are you doing okay?"

"Much better," she replied. "I think this is just what I needed… you're just what I needed."

Grissom grinned as she collected the blankets and remaining food and put them back into the bags.

"Lucky me."

* * *

><p>Later that night, after Sara had showered, wrapped herself in her robe and fallen asleep in Grissom's arms, he detangled himself from her and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him before turning on the light, so he wouldn't wake her with its brightness. The pants he wore earlier were discarded on the floor from when he had showered, and he reached down to pry out the piece of paper he had put there that afternoon. He stared at it for a moment before unfolding it and reading the few words that were scribbled on it.<p>

"_Meet me tomorrow at 11 a.m. It would mean a lot if you could make it_."

Underneath was an address; one Grissom assumed was where he'd find the Tomales Bay Center for Women. He leaned against the bathroom counter and sighed, running through the dozens of possibilities of what Laura Sidle would want to talk to him about.

Should he even go? She obviously didn't want Sara to know, otherwise she would have asked him in front of her. He shouldn't go behind Sara's back… it wasn't his place for him to decide what was best for her. She'd been doing that on her own for years.

Then again… maybe she'd be appreciative. Maybe Laura would tell him the words she wanted to say to Sara, and Grissom could relay them to her. That way, Sara would know without actually having to see her again. But what would he tell her? He couldn't just disappear for the morning without telling her where he was going. And besides, it was their last day in California together, he wanted to spend the entire day with her before they both had to head back to Vegas and back to work.

What should he do?

He turned out the bathroom light and slipped back into the hotel room, searching through the dark to find the jacket draped on a chair. He tucked the piece of paper into the pocket and tiptoed back to the bed. He slipped back under the covers and propped his head up on his elbow, watching Sara as she slept.

Her lips were parted slightly and he could just barely hear her quiet breathing. Her eyelashes were dark crescents against her pale skin, which seemed almost luminescent in the darkness. He looked at every freckle on the face he knew so well, and when he reached out to brush her hair out of her face, she leaned into his touch in her sleep. His heart almost burst with appreciation for how much he loved her. He wasn't kidding when he meant he loved her for good things and bad, he'd never experienced a love so deep, never cared for a person as much as he cared for Sara. She kept his heart beating, his life worth living. She was everything to him.

He slid down further into the sheets, so he was lying flush against her, and gathered her up in his arms. She settled into them comfortably, into the place that she called home.

In that moment, holding her, he made his decision.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

"What's on the agenda for today?"

It was their last day in California, their flight tonight would get them back to Vegas just after midnight. Sara was wrapped in a towel, combing the knots out of her hair and leaning against the bathroom counter, smiling at Grissom. His stomach was already in knots, knowing what he had to tell her.

"Actually, I, uh, I have something I need to take care of," he said swiftly. "For a friend – it should only take a few hours – at most."

"Oh," Sara said softly, clearly disappointed. "But it's… it's our last day."

Her words nearly broke his heart and also nearly had him immediately doubting his decision.

"I know, honey, and we'll spend the rest of it together, I promise," he said. "But this… its really important, and I think I need to take care of it before we leave."

"Okay," Sara said, clearly trying to hide her disappointment. "Okay, well… that's okay. We'll meet up for lunch, then."

"I'm sorry, Sara," he apologized genuinely.

She paused for a moment.

"It's okay," she said determinedly. "I think I… I think I want to go back to Adam's grave today, before we leave. Alone. Just… say what's on my mind."

Grissom rose from his spot on the wall of the bathtub and took her into his arms. She was warm and smelled of vanilla and lavender.

"You'll be okay?"

She nodded against his chest.

"I'll be fine."

For the first time in days, he actually believed her.

"I'll be back soon," he promised. "I love you."

He planted a kiss in her wet hair.

"I love you too."

He was almost out the hotel room door when he turned around, last minute, and saw Sara leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom, watching him leave.

"Hey, Sara?"

"Yeah?"

He took a couple steps forward.

"You trust me, right?"

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Yes," she said slowly. "But you've got me beyond worried now, Gil. Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "You take care of your things, and I'll take care of mine, and we'll be together again soon, I promise."

He could see that she was not fully reassured, so he crossed the rest of the way to her and hugged her tightly.

"Just tell me that you trust me," he whispered into her ear.

"I trust you," she breathed back.

They parted with one last kiss, and he stepped from the hotel room, hoping that what he was doing was right.

* * *

><p>The drive to the address Laura had given him was not lengthy. Before long, he approached a drab-looking building with a peeling sign out front. It took him until he was only a few feet away before he could read the words on it. Tomales Bay Center for Battered Women.<p>

He pulled the red sedan into a free space next to a jeep and stepped out into the sunshine. Several women were gathered in a garden to his left, planting tray loads full of plants and flowers. He made his way up the path to the door, and just through it, a reception desk was waiting.

"Hello," he greeted. "I'm looking for a Laura Sidle."

"And she's looking for you," the receptionist greeted him back. "She's out front, at the picnic tables."

"Thank you," he said, and followed the direction of her pointed finger back out the front door.

Once outside, he noticed another woman he had apparently bypassed a few moments earlier. She was old and somewhat small and meekly looking, but had an air about her that said she was once a lot stronger. He approached the table and took his sunglasses off, waving.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Sidle."

"Laura," she corrected. "Please, sit down. It's nice to see you, too."

"I must have walked right by you on my way in," he said, swinging his legs under the picnic table to the best of his ability. "My apologies."

She waved away his words.

"I missed you too," she said. "Too busy concentrating on this."

She held up the paper for him to see.

"Sudoku," he said approvingly.

"Keeps my mind agile," she smiled. "The ladies here cut them out of the paper for me."

"Sara does those too," he added. "Beats me every time. Though I still hold the record for fastest crossword completed."

Laura smiled sadly at the mention of her daughter's name, but remained quiet.

"I didn't get the chance to tell you at the service – I'm so sorry about Adam," Grissom said.

"You never think you'll outlive your kids," Laura reflected sadly. "I love Adam very much. But at least I still have Sara."

She looked down at the grid of half-filled-in numbers and remained quiet for several more moments.

"Mrs. Sidle – Laura – why did you ask me to come here?" Grissom asked her.

She studied him for a beat before answering.

"I wanted to ask Sara to visit me," she said finally. "But I couldn't take the rejection if she said no. You were my next best thing."

"Do you live here, at the shelter?"

Laura nodded.

"There are employee quarters around back," she said. "I've been living and volunteering here ever since I got out of rehab. I tell the newcomers my story, try to keep them from making the same mistakes that I did. The regulars, we just try to keep them strong."

She paused.

"Has Sara told you?" she asked. "About her past?"

He held her gaze and nodded. When he kept quiet, she continued.

"I was in jail for eight years," she said. "Good behavior and a confirmation of self-defense cut my sentence. But I was assigned to rehabilitation after that – make sure I wasn't suicidal… by the time I was sound again… I knew it was too late to reach out to my kids. It was better for everybody that way."

The woman from the reception desk approached them with two tall glasses of lemonade with ice. Both Laura and Grissom nodded her their thanks.

"I never heard much about Adam," she continued sadly. "I suppose he moved around a lot. But Sara… I was always able to hear things about Sara. I knew she went to graduate school, got a job in San Francisco. I knew she moved to Vegas."

"I bet you didn't know why she moved," Grissom put in as Laura shook her head. "Me."

Her eyebrows raised, but she smiled.

"Really?"

"It's a complicated story–"

Laura held up her hand to stop him.

"And I haven't really earned the right to hear it," she said. "It's okay."

She paused to take a sip of lemonade, and Grissom followed the suit.

"Mr. Grissom-"

"Gil."

"Gil… I won't pretend that I know anything about the person that my Sara is now," she said. "But if she's anything like the little girl I knew, she's smart, headstrong, determined and passionate."

"She's all those things and more," Grissom agreed. "She's a wonderful woman, Laura. Someone I'm very proud to know. You did a good job with her."

"I deserve none of the credit," Laura replied. "Whatever Sara's become now, it's because of her own doing, not mine. She's a product of her own hard work."

Laura again raised the glass of lemonade to her lips, but the rattle of the ice against the glass caught Grissom's attention. He watched as Laura's hands shook violently, and she struggled to control them. She saw him watching her, and she set down her glass, folding her shaking hands into her lap.

"It's Parkinson's," she said, answering what she knew was on his mind. "And no, Sara doesn't know."

"I'm so sorry."

"I was diagnosed a few months ago," she explained. "But it's progressing rapidly."

She took another few moments to study him. He felt, despite the circumstances, that she was triple-checking he was good enough for her daughter.

"Mr. Grissom, I also can't pretend I know anything about you and Sara," she said. "But I could tell from the moments at Adam's funeral that you love her very much."

"I do," he agreed.

"And she loves you," Laura continued. "I appreciate you being there for her, getting her through Adam's death."

Grissom nodded.

"I'm going to die soon," she said abruptly. "I know it, everyone here knows it. It's inevitable. And despite everything, I'm okay with it, because I feel that I've done my work in life. I've produced a beautiful, intelligent, independent daughter, and I've made a lot of progress in my work here. But Mr. Grissom, someone will need to be there for Sara to get her through that, and I'd really like that person to be you."

Caught off-guard, Grissom was at a loss for words.

"Oh, I—I'm –"

Again, Laura held up her hand. Her fingers were still trembling.

"I don't need any assurances," she said. "I just want… I need to know, rather, that once I'm gone, Sara will still have some family left. Someone to turn to."

"Laura, I can assure you, that Sara is well-loved in Vegas," he said honestly. "She has a lot of people around her that care about her very much."

Laura nodded, her eyes a little teary.

"It makes me happy to know that," she said. "Very happy."

The woman from reception approached again.

"It's about time for afternoon group, Laura," she said.

"There in a flash, dear," Laura replied. "Give me two minutes."

She smiled at the woman before turning her gaze back to Grissom.

"Thank you," she said. "For coming here today. It means a lot to me. I feel like I've learned more about Sara in the last hour than I have in the last few years. I miss her."

"She's a strong woman," Grissom said. "But she oftentimes pretends she's okay when she's really not. I'm sure she misses you, too."

"Before you go, Mr. Grissom, could I ask you two last things?"

"Absolutely."

"Why do you love my daughter?"

Grissom gave her a small smile, firstly because of the nature of the question, and secondly because this was his final test. And it wasn't hard at all.

"I love her for her big heart," he said. "Her selflessness. I love her for all the good things she's able to bring out in me. I love that I'll never stop being fascinated by her. I love that she's the only one I've ever felt comfortable sharing myself with. I love that each day, I wake up loving her even more than the day before."

The tears in Laura's eyes were now spilling over, but she had a smile on her face as bright as the midday Californian sun. Saying the words aloud dawned a realization, one he wanted to share before they exchanged their final goodbyes.

"Laura, I have no doubt that I'll spend the rest of my life with your daughter," he said. "She makes me happy. More than any one else. She's in good hands, I promise you."

"I have no doubts," Laura beamed. "You'll take good care of her. One more thing before you go."

She reached into her sweater and withdrew an envelope. He could see Sara's name written on it.

"I wrote this for Sara after seeing her yesterday," she explained. "I would like you to give it to her. I didn't try to offer any apologies or explanations, because the time for that has long past. But I did write from my heart, and it would mean a lot to me if you could give it to her."

Grissom nodded and reached for the letter.

"Make sure you let her know that's it's her decision if she wants to read it," Laura added before passing it over. "She can tear it open right away or stash it in a drawer for the next few years, it doesn't matter to me. As long as I know that I tried."

"I'll tell her."

She grasped his hands.

"Thank you – so much – thank you for coming, Gil."

"You're welcome, Laura."

"Take care."

"You, too."

With one final wave, Laura joined arms with the woman from reception and the two made their way back up to and into the building. Grissom watched them go and felt a sadness in his heart, for both Laura, who knew she was dying and was hoping she would perhaps be forgiven for her many mistakes, and for Sara, who spent much of her life thinking she had no family, never knowing how much her mother loved her.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC! <strong>

**A/N: **So I have a problem. Starting Tuesday, I'm going out of the country. I really hate to postpone continuing this story, but it looks like it might have to be done. If there's enough interest, I will try my best to rustle up some motivation and post another chapter this weekend. But will you guys totally hate me if you have to wait two weeks for the final chapter? Be honest, now :)


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Look, I did it! Your guys' reviews from the last chapter were awesome, thank you. The next three days consist of a graduation, my birthday and a flight to Italy... but there's only one chapter left... it'll be close. Long story short, I will do my best. But I appreciate how many of you said you'd understand if you have to wait. Again, you guys are awesome.

And as always, I love to hear that you are enjoying the story!

* * *

><p>"I'll do the three-vegetable stir-fry melody, with chopsticks, please."<p>

"For you, sir?"

Grissom was snapped to attention.

"I'll do stir-fry as well," he said. "Chicken."

"I'll be right back."

Sara set down her glass of water and stared at him.

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?" she asked lightly.

"What do you mean?"

"No 'wok-tastic'?" she said. "No 'wok this way'? You always make some kind of pun when we get carryout. It's our thing."

"Sorry. I must just be punned-out."

"Gil," she said, obviously concerned now. "What's up?"

He sighed, knowing that he'd have to fess up sooner or later. Best to get it out of the way, he supposed, although he was hoping to hold it off until after they landed in Vegas, so that, at the very least, she'd have a peaceful flight home.

"I have a confession to make," he began.

"Okay," Sara said slowly.

"I didn't run an errand for a friend this morning," he continued. "I went to see your mother."

Sara said nothing, but continued to stare at him, looking unsure of what to say. It took her several moments to make a sound.

"Why did you lie to me?" she asked softly, sounding heartbroken.

"Because… because I didn't know if you'd want me to go," he said eventually, knowing how bad the words sounded.

"So instead you decided it would be better to sneak behind my back?"

"I… I don't know why I did it," he admitted. "I should have told you. But Sara, honestly, would you have wanted me to go if I did?"

Sara just shook her head incredulously.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me."

She didn't raise her voice, and she didn't cry. But the quiet disappointment in her voice hurt more than Grissom ever thought it could.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he pleaded. "But I think I'm glad that I went, she – your mom – she said –"

"I don't want to know anything my mom said," she said, stopping him short. "You know how I feel about her, Gil. How could you think that this was a good idea?"

Grissom dropped his head and stared at his lap, feeling like a little boy being scolded.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I just… I could see pain in her eyes when she looked at you the other day. She wanted to badly to reach out to you, but she just couldn't do it. All things aside, she is your mother, Sara, and she does love you. I think she just wants you to know that."

He lifted his gaze from the table back to Sara's eyes, and he saw the conflict waging within her. She looked a mix of hurt, disappointed, upset, and somewhat curious.

"I messed up, honey," he said. "I _knew_ I should have told you, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Yell at me, call me anything you want. Sara, I understand if you're upset with me. Just… say _something_."

Sara shifted in her seat a little, not making eye contact.

"What _did _she say?" she asked timidly.

Grissom couldn't help but smile just a little. He reached into his pocket.

"She wanted me to give you this," he said, showing her the letter but not handing it to her quite yet. "But she says its up to you when you want to open it… or whether you want to open it at all. It's in your hands, honey."

He passed the envelope from his hands to hers and she stared at the handwritten name on the front. Her gaze didn't move for several moments.

"Sara?" he asked hesitantly.

She lifted her eyes to his.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded as she tucked the letter into her carry-on, which they had brought with them so they'd be able to go straight to the airport after dinner. Their waitress came back and placed two steaming plates of stir-fry in front of them, which neither of them touched.

"Do you hate me?"

She paused just slightly, and those few fleeting seconds seemed like the longest moments of Grissom's life. In seconds, thoughts of fights and tears and losing her flashed through his mind, and he realized how he couldn't even begin to contemplate or think about a life without her… when she shook her head.

"Will you tell me what you're feeling?" he prompted, relieved.

"I don't like that you weren't honest with me," she said finally. "That kills me. I thought we trusted each other."

"Sara, I –"

She held up her hand to stop him and went on.

"I'm disappointed," she admitted. "And a little hurt. But… I guess I understand why you did it."

"You… you do?" he repeated in surprise.

"Yeah," she replied. "Even though you did it all the wrong ways, you were just trying to do what was best for me. That's weird… because nobody has done that in a long while."

She took a long, slow breath and continued.

"I think if you would have asked me, I'd have told you not to go," she said. "But later… I think I might have regretted it. If it had meant so much to her for you to meet, I'd want to know why. I'm glad I have the choice to get that answer."

He reached across the table for her hands, not taking them quite yet.

"So… are we okay?"

Her eyes met his again and she looked at him for a long time before nodding. His fingers hovered towards hers, finally making contact and squeezing them slightly.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said again. "I should have asked you. I shouldn't have gone behind your back if it was something you didn't want. I just-"

"I know," she cut him off softly.

"So we're-"

"Yeah."

"You're amazing, Sara. I don't deserve you."

She beamed at him, and they ate their stir-fry one-handed, their other hands intertwined on the table. When their plates emptied, they left the Chinese diner and drove their trusty sedan to back to the rental place in San Francisco. They spent the rest of their afternoon strolling the hilly streets of the city until it was nearly time for them to head to the airport.

"Ready to go home?" he asked her.

She buried her head in his shoulder and groaned as she shook her head.

"Do we have to?"

Grissom laughed and took her hand.

"Well, we could pay heed to our evil twins, Frissom and Tara, and elope together."

Sara picked her head up and grinned back at him.

"Get married by Elvis?" she suggested. "Then have a honeymoon in Reno?"

"Sounds so like us," he said, pretending to sigh contently.

They reached a corner and Grissom held out his hand, signaling a taxi. One pulled up to them within seconds. He held the door open for Sara, and then slid in next to her.

"Airport, please," he directed the driver before turning back to Sara. "We do have to go back to work, honey."

He put an arm around her shoulder and tugged her to him.

"But I wasn't kidding about that tropical vacation," he added. "We're going to take it – and soon."

Sara nodded.

"Thanks for coming with me this weekend," she said after a pause. "I really don't think I could have done it without you."

Her fingers toyed with his as she glanced up to give him a shy smile.

"I'm glad I came too, honey," he said. "It means a lot that you wanted me here."

Sara leaned in to kiss him, and Grissom accepted her embrace, pressing his lips against hers and taking her face in his hands. They weren't aware of how long they were kissing, or even that the cab driver was speaking to himself in the front seat.

"Every time," he grumbled in disbelief. "Always the lovebirds in my cab. Who woulda thought? San Francisco… the city of love."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **To follow.

* * *

><p><em>Two months later<em>

Sara sighed as she tugged at her outfit. This was the second time in what seemed like too short a time span that she'd worn a dress. Although, admittedly, this was a much better occasion, and something she was excited about. It was her birthday, and though she'd had the day off and spent much of it out and about with Hank, Gil had not, and she was anxiously counting down the minutes until she saw him.

If she knew when he'd be here. Or even what was going on. All he had told her was to "look nice and wait for further instructions". Very helpful.

She fought against the urge to check her appearance in the mirror one more time, not wanting to be 'that girl', and instead pulled the blinds of the front window open a little to peek into the drive. A car was approaching, but it wasn't Gil's. It was a sleek, black limo, and for a second, Sara wondered what in the world it was doing in their driveway. When the driver exited and approached the front door with a handful of flowers, she couldn't help but smile.

"Sara Sidle?" the driver asked as she pulled open the front door.

"I… yes… thank you," she stuttered, accepting the flowers. "I'll be right out."

"I'll be waiting," he said jovially as he returned to his car.

She hurried to find the flowers a vase and some water before scurrying out the front door, pressing it closed and locking it behind her. The driver was waiting outside the limousine, holding her door open. She smiled her thanks and climbed in as gracefully as possible, crossing her ankles once inside. Her phone buzzed from inside her clutch.

_Enjoy the ride, _the message said. _I'll see you soon. _

She smiled and tucked the phone back into her purse as the limo pulled out of the drive and began down the street.

"So, uh… where exactly are we headed?" Sara asked nonchalantly.

The driver merely chuckled.

"Mr. Grissom said you'd ask that."

"Did he?" Sara said, amused. "Well, whatever he paid you to keep it quiet, I can top it."

"He also said you'd bribe me," the driver added, winking at her from the rearview mirror. "Sorry, miss, no can do. It's a secret, and I'm a sucker for surprises."

Sara pretended to huff, but she was in no way upset. In fact, she had a huge grin plastered on her face as she smoothed her dress and leaned back into the lush leather to enjoy the ride. But when the limo pulled to a stop in front of one of Vegas' most popular and expensive restaurants, she couldn't help herself.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, to no one in particular.

"Afraid not," the driver smirked, answering her anyway. "Your guy must really like you."

"He must."

As she said the words, her door opened, and Grissom stood there in a suit and tie – one he must have tied by himself, Sara noted – and looking positively suave. She accepted his offered hand and stepped from the limousine into his arms.

"You look beautiful, Sara," he whispered as he held her.

He placed a kiss on her neck and led her by the hand to their reserved table, a private one in the corner of the back garden – surrounded by twinkling lights and fragrant flowers.

"This is amazing," Sara said in wonder she took a seat in the chair Grissom held out for her. "Gil… you didn't need to do all this. I would have been fine with a microwave pizza on our couch."

"I know you would have," Grissom said, smiling. "That's why I love you. But you deserve the world, and I want to give it to you, little by little."

He reached into his suit coat and pulled out an envelope. He placed it in front of him, but inched it towards Sara, who, all the while, looked at him unbelievingly.

"Gil-"

"Open it."

She did, and inside found two tickets to Belize. She looked up at him in awe. He looked as excited as a child on Christmas Day.

"We're going over New Year's," he said. "It's my holiday off this year, and I'm sure we can finagle it off for you, too. It looks amazing there, Sara – there's coral reef, and rainforest, and I've been researching tours and trips and stuff, there's so much to do there."

Caught up in his own excitement, Grissom stopped to take a breath.

"What do you think?"

"I don't even know what to say," Sara said honestly. "Is this… is this for real?"

Grissom grinned.

"Absolutely."

"We're really going?"

"We're really going."

"Oh my god," Sara said, staring at the tickets, then back up to Grissom. "We're going to Belize!"

She jumped from her chair and made her way to him, crashing her lips against his in what she hoped to be the most sincere of thank-yous. They pulled apart, and Sara was sure that she was just as flush with excitement as she was. She hated to sit back down in her own chair, so very far away from this man she loved so much, but some of the other restaurant patrons were starting to stare.

"So you… you're excited?"

"Excited?" Sara repeated incredulously. "Gil – this is amazing—thank you. So much."

Grissom reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

"You're welcome, honey," he said, followed by a chuckle. "I was going to wait for dessert, but my excitement got hold of me."

Sara laughed, too.

"I'm glad you didn't," she said. "Even if the food sucks, the service is terrible and I get served meat on accident, nothing could ruin this night. It's perfect."

The food didn't suck and the service wasn't terrible. It was by far the best meal Sara had enjoyed, but the food had little to do with it. She found herself having a hard time tearing her eyes away from Grissom and wiping the smile off her face. And by the time desert came around, a delicious tiramisu with a single lit candle stuck into its top layer, Sara had a surprise of her own.

"So," she said, setting down her fork. "I have something I've wanted to tell you."

Grissom cocked an eyebrow.

"Go on."

She took a deep breath and held his gaze.

"I read the letter from my mother," she said. "The one from Adam's funeral."

Grissom was taken aback, surprised at her revelation.

"You… you did?" he asked. "And was it… are you… okay?"

She smiled at him and his genuine, adorable concern.

"Yeah," she assured him. "I'm okay. And… I'm really glad I read it. I don't know why, but this morning, I felt like it was something I needed to do."

She reached into her clutch and found the folded piece of paper she had tucked in it earlier that night. She put the paper on the table in front of her and slowly pushed it towards Grissom, as he had done earlier.

"No – honey, I can't-" he began.

"It's okay," she reassured. "Read it."

"Sara," he said firmly. "That letter was not written for me. It's not my place to read it. I-"

"I want you to."

Grissom stared into her eyes, as if seeking validation there, and when she gave him a small nod, reaching for her glass of wine to take a sip, he relented and began to unfold the letter. The page was filled with an untidy scrawl, but before he read a word, he glanced back up at Sara.

The look on her face was hard to pin point – it was a mixture of sadness, relief, regret and love. But most of all, he was relieved to see a look of someone at peace. Without reading a word of Laura's letter, his heart was filled with happiness that Sara was hopefully, finally able to find a peaceful compromise with her mother, something that he did a little to help bring on.

She looked over at him and caught him staring.

"Read it, already!" she joked.

"All right, all right," he laughed, redirecting his gaze back on the letter.

_My Dearest Sara,_

_ I love you and I hope so very much that you are happy._

_ Just in case that's all you read from this letter, I can rest easy knowing you know that. I am not going to make apologies or offer explanations, because the time for that is long past. What's done is done, and although life has taken me down a path I'd never thought I'd travel, I am happy, because seeing you the other day confirmed my deepest desire – for you to succeed and be happy in life, despite the obstacles that life – and I – threw at you. _

_I think about you every day, sweetheart, and hope that you are living life to the fullest. Just from those brief moments, it looks as though you've grown to be everything I'd dreamed for you, and more. Know that whether we see each other another time soon, or never again, I will be thinking of you always and thankful that your hard work and determination has brought you happiness. You are a miracle, Sara._

_I know that nothing I say can fully make things right with you, and that is why this letter comes with no strings attached. Feel no obligation, Sara, because you have made me a happy old woman by simply being who you are. Keep living as you are, keep being yourself, and you will continue to make my dreams come true. If I may, I will leave you with just a few words of advice (I'm a mother, what can I say): _

_Live fully. Love deeply. Take chances. And always, always, be yourself. _

_I love you. _

_Love, _

_ Mom xo_

When he finished, he looked back up at Sara. Her eyes were glistening, but she was smiling.

"I never thanked you," she said.

"For what?"

She grinned at him.

"For sneaking around my back and going to see my mother," she replied. "At first, I was so angry at you … I'm really glad you did it. I can never have a normal relationship with my mother, and I can never truly accept what she did, because it caused so much pain. But I would have been sorely missing out, if I had not read this. Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey."

"Don't think this lets you off the hook for the future," she laughed through her tears. "No more sneaking."

He drew an invisible X over his chest.

"Cross my heart," he promised.

He watched her dab her eyes, and looked over every inch of the woman he loved so much. He knew that, as such is life, she would most likely have still more hardships to face in the future. But he hoped that he would be there every step of the way, to help get her through them. He stood from the table and motioned for Sara to do the same. He collected her in his arms before he spoke again.

"I love you so much, Sara Sidle," he said into her ear. "You have my heart, and I trust and love you with each of its passing beats. Always remember that."

She nodded and kissed him in response, leaving him with no doubts that she felt the same way. Hand in hand, they walked away from the table, back to the limousine and back to the life that they shared with each other.

* * *

><p><strong>The end.<strong>

**A/N: **Thank you SO much for your patience in letting me get this last chapter out late, and thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, and especially those who have been reviewing, you all make my day!

My trip spurred on some ideas for a possible GSR Italy-style story, so keep an eye out for that, hopefully maybe sometime soon. As always, thanks for reading! x**  
><strong>


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